


That teacup did come together

by muskequeersingular



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cannibalism, Incarcerated Hannibal, Lonely cannibal, M/M, Monologue of sorts?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 12:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9180580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muskequeersingular/pseuds/muskequeersingular
Summary: This will be a series of oneshots and drabbles to help me practice writing. If you have any constructive criticism please drop a comment. Also, if you have a fic or au you would like written, please drop me a comment because I always need new ideas! Don't be shy!Chapter 1Hannibal muses over his loneliness whilst he is incarcerated.





	

Time passes slowly in the Baltimore state hospital for the criminally insane. The clock ticking was the only noise in the auditorium of his cell. "The clock is a luxury you should not have been afforded!" He can still hear Alana's voice, turned hard and bitchy from her experiences with him. He looks smugly at one of the many security cameras pointed at him. How it must eat her up inside to know she slept with me, Hannibal thinks, congratulating himself on the pun. He makes a point of reminding her of it. A little dig here and there. Ensuring she remembers her place. Breaking her spirit, little by little, just as she was trying to break his. They had a lot in common that way, Hannibal supposes, both were as petty and opportunistic as vultures. They were both picking at the remains of a past life.   
He just has higher walls, Hannibal thinks.  
They would be higher, given he spent a lifetime building them as opposed to the two years Alana has spent digging herself deeper into her pit of vengence and loathing. Two years since the final dinner, since Abigail shoved Alana out a window. Good girl, Hannibal praises the memory of her. Two years since he stabbed jack and revealed himself as the Chesapeake ripper. Two years since he gutted his Will, then cut Abigail's throat and let her blood spill out over his weeping... friend? Lover? Patient? No label could accurately describe the relationship he had with Will.   
He would have regretted that night, were it not for Will's voice crying out into the darkness of the catacombs.  
"I forgive you"  
He now keeps those catacombs in his memory palace, locked away for safe keeping, one of his most fond memories. That and sitting under the primavera, Will's face all cut, his eyes sparkling, his smile a beacon guiding Hannibal.   
What he would give to worship Will, to provide for him, to hunt with him. Will was his God, murder his prayer, love his salve. If only the night following their time at muskrat farm had gone more smoothly. He should have told Will, he should have apologised, hollow though it would be.   
Hannibal mentally cursed himself. Here he was at risk of Will Graham becoming just one more regret. One more mistake. One more missed opportunity to rid himself of the biting lonliness that filled him. Will hadn't visited, not once. Understandable given the circumstance in which he was apprehended, yet that didn't mean it didn't hurt. Like a knife to the stomach, Hannibal smiled ruefully. At least he had left Will with a reminder. He was always here, waiting for him.   
He had all the time in the world.


End file.
